Butter Scraped Over Too Much Bread
by caiitlon
Summary: Basically, a crackfic involving a bunch of random back stories that only my friend and I will understand. ;D
1. Cuivienyarna

There it was, looming just before him, like a great shadow, in all its terrifying glory. Beady and blackened eyes peered out, their bottomless and all consuming gaze boring into him without any sign of restraint. It knew all and saw all; its piercing, relentless stare burrowed in to the depths of his very soul, probing for his darkest fears and his most well-kept secrets. The fleshy green skin it wore was moist, bits of dew slithering down its leering features, and its body was lit up in a ghastly orange light, like the fires of Hell itself were just behind, flickering and dancing about viciously. A silent stride was taken forward, closer to the monstrosity, and sweat of his own began to drip down the smooth skin of his forehead. Another step, then one more. As he grew nearer, the wide and toothy grin it always seemed to have plastered across its wretched face grew larger and larger, grew more wicked and demented; it was not at all a friendly, warm, or inviting smile. It was possible that he was simply imagining the stains of dark amidst the pearly whites, that he was imagining the rustic smell skittering about, though he highly doubted it. Another reluctant step and the smirk grew bigger and more sinister. From somewhere behind him, he heard faint, chiding whispers, some far away and fleeting, others creeping into the very core of his ear.

_Hurry up._

Move closer.

What are you waiting for?

He felt a gigantic lump forming in his throat and nervously, he swallowed it. He could not stall any longer. With new vigor burning in his eyes, he strode forward, rays of sunlight beating down and illuminating his slender form, bathing him in radiance. Just up ahead, his nemesis still sent a piercing and chilling look his way, the look alone enough to send a frigid arrow plunging into his very heart. It seemed to call his name in a velvety voice only he could hear, beckoning him closer and closer, and before he had a chance to think, a chance to banish that chilling siren's call from his mind, his feet were bringing him closer and closer to the clutches of the ever sneering beast. Every advancement he took seemed to drag on and on, sending spasms of agony coursing up and into every bone belonging to his nimble legs, and every time his foot landed noiselessly against the paved and hot ground, it seemed thunderously loud. He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, could feel his entire body trembling in total fright, could hear his labored and ragged breathing, though despite all this, he kept moving on at his sluggish pace. Seconds blurred into minutes and slowly, slowly, _slowly,_ he found himself face to face with the green savage. His own shuddering reflection was miniscule in its gaping and omnipotent eye. A quivering breath flew forth from between two pale lips.

Out of the blue, a loud and commanding voice shot through the air.

" Next! "

He felt his world plummeting downwards and shattering all around him.

Childish laughter rang out eerily from somewhere behind his back, and again, the man gulped. His knees were wobbling and knocking against one another and his heart was still pounding away, desperately trying to break out from its bone inlaid cage. He took in a deep breath, released, took in another, and moved forward to face his ultimate challenge, to conquer his ultimate fear. Following the marked path, which somehow allowed him to flank the enemy, the fair skinned male eventually came to stand at its side, out of its view, thankfully. It was equally as terrifying to be drinking in its sharp profile, however. His eyes were round as buttons, the word, " Help, " screaming out from within them. The urge to spin around, to simply dart away from this cursed place, to flee from all of this, was incredibly appealing and overpowering. How simple it would be to just back out now. How easy it would be to just walk away and never return. How humiliating it would be to do just that. Pride caused him to linger there, rooted to his spot as a tree would have been while it waited to be commanded by a Tree Herder. Sadly, he had no such leader, and relied only on sheer willpower to keep him trekking onward.

A creaky shudder consumed the area around him, signifying he was to move even _closer_ to the foul thing. He complied, the disdain and reluctance to do so painted over his face. This was it, it was time. There was no turning back. Donning a new expression, one of total conviction, he steeled himself, and was sucked in to the fiend's slimy arms. He managed to stifle a rather girlish scream. His eyes immediately slammed shut, closed so tightly that small wrinkles began to form. Terror clawed at his stomach, causing it to churn, and his mind began to drown itself in horrible thoughts of his demise. It was all over now; he was powerless, helpless save to wait with bated breath.

All was completely silent for what seemed like an eternity, and then, out of nowhere, he heard its voice, tearing through his surroundings.

" _ Legolas._ "


	2. Deeply Cloven Valley

" Legolas! "

Hearing his name caused him to go crashing back to a much more safe and comforting reality. It brought him back to the present, dark as it may be, though never as dark as the frighteningly numbing memories his mind had been conjuring as of late. The ever growing and vastly reaching threat of Sauron, the shadow of hopelessness Mordor had cast over the fair Middle Earth was nothing compared to the unadulterated horror Legolas had just experienced first-hand. It, that being the slimy, green and grinning abomination, was something he dared not think about if at all possible; something that stole into his mind in the wee hours of the night when only he was awake, staring into the flickering flames of the fire. Its haunting gaze was always there, glinting eyes hiding in areas bathed in thick blackness, waiting to lunge out. He could always hear its pitter-pattering feet as it snuck up from somewhere behind, and whenever such an instance occurred, his heart was seized with pure terror. The name of such a dreadful creature? The name for the source of all his fears, his insecurities, his fury? The Frog Hopper.

It had started when he had been a young and sparkle-eyed elven lad, on his first visit to an amusement park. There, he had first encountered what would be his supreme rival, the skeleton in his closet, so to speak. Of course, at the time, he had not realized such a thing and was only too happy to prance towards it, hop in, and blast off into the sky. The small-size of his boyish body had easily fit inside of the cool steel arms and he had squealed in delight each time he rose into the air, wind causing his long and brilliantly blonde hair to whip around wildly. Each year, he returned, and each year, he grew taller and taller. On one such trip, standing in line, giddy as a schoolgirl whom had just received her first peck on the lips, he had strode confidently forward and up towards the immense joy giver, otherwise known as the Frog Hopper. The man had moved to sit inside of it, just as he had done for the previous years, and to his utter dismay, his body was simply to large. This had been Legolas's first struggle with heartbreak, for he could feel as the organ plummeted down into the lowest part of his stomach and shattered into tiny, numberless bits.

_He couldn't fit_. He had grown too large for the ride. He felt as if his entire world was coming to a cheerless and depressing end, as if everything had spun out of his control, and as if he were the most hideous, pointy-eared and perfectly skinned beast to roam the Earth. In ghastly horror, Legolas cast an apprehensive glance down and towards his belly, all too scared of what he might see. A horrible vision greeted his eyes; his bulging belly, hanging over the hem of his trousers. A sharp exhale of air burst forth from his mouth, hands fluttering up to mask his mouth. He, Legolas, had become fat, too fat to squeeze and squirm his way into the always open, welcoming, and manly arms of the Frog Hopper.

The child inside him was dying a painful, drawn out and agonizing death.

Pristine white teeth were sunk down into the flesh of his lower lip and his pale eyes began to flood up with water. He was barely aware of the children waiting, curse their slight little bodies and their ability to slip right into the Frog. He was barely conscious of a man's voice stating without any sympathy or regard for Legolas's already squashed feelings that he was too large and to please move out of the way, sir. He had fled the scene immediately after that, allowing the tears to stream freely and unrestrained down his face, and now very much aware of the flopping of his stomach fat as he lurched forward blindly. After that, all was a blur, and he could recall no more. He _wouldn't_ allow himself to recall anymore. The days of his past had been long and arduous, bare of all food save for when he absolutely needed something to keep moving forward, and full of the vile sounds of retching as he coughed up whatever it was that he had managed to shove down his protesting throat. But, sad steps had to be taken in order to be flawless beautiful and skinny, right?

In the end, he'd be slender enough to feel the warmth of the Frog Hopper's embrace, _right_? That was the only hope he had been clinging to, the only reason he was able to keep moving with each new day.

No one knew of his cryptic and woe stained past for he hadn't told a soul. There was no one he could trust, especially now, in such a treacherous age. Again, he heard his name repeated, and again, he was snapped back, finding himself standing in a rather grand hall, the haunting and melodic voices of elves singing drifting dreamily about.  
" Legolas? "  
" Ah, Lord Elrond. Thank you for the hospitality and cheer in this grim time. Have the others arrived? "  
He saw what looked to be a smile trying to form on Elrond's wise, though still charming features. Legolas could not help but notice how his brown hair seemed positively glorious in the twilight. Elrond's eyes shifted to somewhere behind Legolas, and before the blonde could turn and follow his gaze, he felt a hearty and firm hand come down against his shoulder. Warmth immediately began to spread through his entire flabby form and a smiled graced his handsome face. Everything was going to be all right.


End file.
